


Whiskey & Coffee

by Writing-The-Thing (writingfanfic)



Category: The Thing (1982)
Genre: Adorable, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 12:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15972764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Thing
Summary: For the prompt: 'modern au macready x reader? sfw for nsfw, your choice ;) all i request is that macready is cute and grumpy.... thank u!!!!'





	Whiskey & Coffee

“ _And the weather in Cincinnati is looking to be gorgeous today with a-_ ”

You smack the bedside table, narrowly missing the bottle of whiskey, and then adjust your aim and give the alarm clock a good whack. It stops, for now, but at what cost, and you roll back over as hands pull you close.

“Mmm. Mornin’, sweetheart,” Mac mumbles against your ear, and you nuzzle up to his chest, reaching up to stroke his hair. “How are you?”

“All the better for seeing you here,” you murmur. “Have I mentioned how much I like it when you’re not 9,000 miles away from me?” He kisses your cheek, and pulled you as close as he can, stroking his rough fingers down your back.

“Wanna go back to sleep?” he murmurs, and you nuzzle up to him.

“It’s 8am. So yeah.” He grins, and then you both cringe as you hear the garbage truck outside.

“Oh, for the love of…” He pushes himself up, and you put your hand to your mouth as he makes his way to the window.

“Honey, please, do not scream out of the window at the nice men,” you cringe, and he turns around. “Especially not… naked. I have nice neighbours.” He rolls his eyes, flips the bird out of the window, and comes back, crawling up the bed to kiss you. “Come back.”

“I can’t. I got outta bed, I gotta stay,” he says, ruefully, and you pout. “But I can get you breakfast. Nauls taught me how to make scrambled eggs. I’m domesticated now.” He pulls the covers back, and kisses all over your breasts, leaving you squirming for a moment in shock at how sudden the movement was. “Or I could get back in bed. But not sleep…”

“…breakfast first,” you say, and it’s his turn to pout. “I’m going to shower. Better be bacon on that table when you’re done.” His eyes narrow playfully and he kisses your neck – you take a moment to appreciate the curve of his body, and then he pushes himself up.

“Bacon it is.”

* * *

As you come downstairs, you see him – handsome motherfucker that he is looking like the God of Thunder with that scruffy beard and long, blonde hair in a bun, grey t-shirt clinging to every muscle as he fries the bacon.

“Did I hear you singing whilst I was up there?” you ask, innocently, and he shakes his head.

“Nah, darlin’.” He reaches out and pulls you to his side with one hand, and kisses you. “Get the coffee machine started, babe, I want one so strong I can’t taste the whiskey.”

“Mac, it’s 8:23am.”

“Not in Antarctica it isn’t,” he grinned, and grabs a bottle out of the cupboard. “We don’t have to be anywhere that I remember, sweetheart, and a little shot wakes me up anyhow.” He sloshes far more than a shot into the cup, and you roll your eyes as you click the percolator on. “I’m running on empty anyhow.”

“You guys used US timezones when you were there,” you shoot back, and he pauses, before looking you dead in the eye and taking a slug of the whiskey. “Oh, Mac…”

“Hey, I can’t help it if I like whiskey.” He sits down, and sighs. “I drink a lot on the base ‘cause there isn’t a lot to do, but here, I guess I gotta tone it back, ‘cause I got you.” You smile, and he leans forward and kisses you. “But- I am havin’ whiskey in my coffee.”

“Fine…!”

 

 


End file.
